Let me do it
by smytheforthewin
Summary: John worries because he thinks that Sherlock maybe has a prostate cancer, so he offers him to do him a DRE. Of course, stubborn Sherlock is stubborn so he won't say yes so easily. I suck at summaries, please read? - One shot Johnlock


**Wow. It's been so, sooo long since I've written something... and here's my very first Johnlock one shot! I hope you guys will enjoy my awkwardness. Please review if you liked it? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock (unfortunately).**

* * *

''No.''

''Sherlock, listen to me.''

''No.''

''Sher-''

''John, there is no way I'm going to let someone put their finger in my arse.''

John sighed and he pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head slightly in discouragement.

''It could save your life, Sherlock,'' John said after a while.

Sherlock's head snapped toward John and he tucked his knees closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs.

''A finger in my rectum won't save my life,'' Sherlock replied in a monotone.

John rolled his eyes and he walked over Sherlock, sitting in the armchair facing the other man's.

''You're so stubborn. I can't even –''

''Excuuuuuse me? Who's the most stubborn between you and me? You're insisting to make me –''

''You nearly cried this morning when you peed,'' John stated. ''I'm a doctor. I know it can be related to prostate cancer.''

Sherlock looked at him with wide eyes.

''Shut up, will you? You know I'm hypochondriac!''

''You need a digital rectal examination.''

''I don't.''

''You do. You will have one. I'll call one of my –''

Sherlock quickly stood from the armchair and he sent John a murdering look, his hands clenching into fists.

''I'm not gonna let a stranger touch my fucking asshole, is that clear?''

John remained perfectly calm when Sherlock yelled at him. He simply cocked an eyebrow and he raised his chin slightly.

''Let me do it, then.''

Sherlock frowned, a little bit taken aback by what John had said. He stared at him in silence for a couple of seconds, narrowing his eyes when he saw John's little forced smile.

''No.''

Sherlock turned around and he started to walk away without another word. John rolled his eyes and he sighed heavily.

''Deal with your pain and don't whine afterwards!'' John called, sounding a little bit irritated.

John jumped when Sherlock slammed his door shut. He closed his eyes and he rubbed his eyelids lazily, then he stood from the armchair and he walked out of the sitting room. He climbed the stairs that led to his bedroom and he turned off the lights.

[…]

_Knock knock_, John heard as he was sleeping. The man grunted as he woke up, his face buried in his feather pillow. Jeez… he was having such a nice dream, why couldn't he sleep in peace?

''John?'' a small voice called.

John opened his eyes slightly when he realized that this voice was Sherlock's. He blinked a few times and he exhaled through his nostrils, then he turned to look at the alarm clock.

''For god sakes, Sherlock, it's 4a.m,'' John said as he stood from his bed. He walked to the door lazily and he unlocked it, cracking it open to see Sherlock stand in front of him. The man was wrapped in his bed sheet as usual, probably not wearing anything underneath. Holy crap. Sherlock was so pale and sweaty... ''What's going on?'' he asked a little bit worriedly.

Sherlock sniffled and he swallowed thickly, embarrassment clearly readable on his face.

''I have to pee,'' the younger said.

John narrowed his eyes at him and he raised an eyebrow.

''... well, go to pee, then.''

''I can't.''

''What do you mean, you can't?''

''I_ can't_,'' Sherlock repeated through his gritted teeth.

John stared at him for a while before he understood what Sherlock was trying to tell him.

''Oh, right… because it hurts,'' John guessed.

Sherlock chewed on his bottom lip and he nodded awkwardly.

''What do you want me to do?'' John asked.

The taller man felt a bright blush spread across his cheeks and he looked down at his hands.

''I… er… you should – try the… the thing,'' he said, stumbling over his own words.

''Pardon me, what?'' John said, looking at him curiously.

Sherlock sighed heavily and he looked to his left, biting his bottom lip a little bit roughly. He didn't want to tell John what he wanted him to do. He wanted him to understand by himself… because well, it was embarrassing.

''I want you to… uh… do it,'' Sherlock said. ''The thing you offered to do earlier.''

John finally seemed to get it and he crossed his arms over his chest.

''Oh. You mean you want me to check your prostate?''

Sherlock glanced at him swiftly and he blushed deeply, his jaw clenching slightly.

''Yes,'' Sherlock replied after a while.

A poorly suppressed grin spread John's lips.

''Okay, I will do it. Come to see me tomorrow morning,'' John said as he stepped backward in attempt to close the door.

''No,'' Sherlock responded automatically, stopping the door with his hand.

John's eyebrows raised and he tilted his head a tiny bit, swallowing nervously as Sherlock stared straight into his eyes.

''It took me seven hours to convince myself to let you do it, so you will do it now.''

''What – now? Sherlock, it's…'' John paused to glance at the clock. ''… 4a.m.''

''It's now or never. I'm panicking since you told me that this kind of pain could be related to prostate cancer, so you will fix what you did.''

The elder kept looking at Sherlock in silence for a couple of seconds, and then he let out a quiet sigh through his nose. ''Fine,'' he responded. ''But it'll be complicated because I don't have my examination table.''

Sherlock looked at him and he narrowed his eyes.

''Damn the table. My life is more important,'' he said.

John huffed and he shook his head. ''Of course,'' he muttered as he stepped out of the room. ''Alright, come on. Let's go in your bedroom.''

Sherlock gave him a questioning look. ''What… here? I mean – we're doing this here? In the flat?'' he asked as they made their way downstairs.

''Where do you want us to do this? You don't want to wait and I don't have my examination table.''

The detective remained quiet, raising his chin a little bit haughtily. They entered Sherlock's bedroom in silence.

''Fine,'' he mumbled. ''What do I have to do?''

''Um… first you have to undress, then you lay on the bed. You can lay on your side, you can squat on the mattress or you can just bend over the drawer over there.''

Sherlock swallowed nervously as John spoke, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. Stupid human body, why did it have to be so weak?

''I'll be back in a minute. I have to get gloves and lubricant,'' John said before he walked out of the bedroom.

Sherlock nodded slightly and glanced at the bed, sighing through his nostril, and then he looked down at the bed sheet wrapped around his naked body.

John walked out of the bedroom and he went upstairs. He walked across his bedroom and he opened the drawer of his nightstand to get a bottle of lubricant. When he came back in Sherlock's room, John closed the door and he turned on the lights, making both of them wince a little bit because their eyes were still used to the darkness.

''John…? Why are you keeping this in your bedroom?'' Sherlock asked curiously as he saw the lubricant.

John looked at Sherlock and he raised an eyebrow.

''Do you ever masturbate?'' he said bluntly.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and he shook his head with a sigh.

''I don't have time for that kind of things,'' he responded.

''Whatever. Undress now,'' John responded, waving at the bed.

Sherlock grunted and he walked over the bed lazily, his hands grasping the bed sheet, and he looked at John without making any move to let go of the fabric.

''Sherlock, it's fine. I've seen a lot of naked men in my life. I won't judge you or anything,'' John told him as he turned away, wanting to give him at least a little bit of intimacy.

Sherlock looked down. He wasn't ashamed of his body, but he wasn't sure he was ready to get his prostate checked by his best friend. Needless to say that it was the weirdest situation he'd ever gotten in. He eventually let the bed sheet fall on the cold ground and he climbed onto his bed, laying on his side like the other man indicated him. He swallowed nervously and he licked his lips, hearing John putting the gloves on his hands. His body was shaking a little bit. Not that he was scared, but holy crap… he felt so vulnerable right now.

''Okay?'' John said after a couple of seconds.

Sherlock breathed in and he sighed through his nostrils.

''Yeah,'' he responded.

John nodded to himself and he turned around, seeing Sherlock's back facing him, and as he walked over the bed, he saw that the man's hands were grasping the pillow tightly.

''It'll be cold because of the lubricant,'' John said as he knelt in front of the bed. After a second, he stood and he grabbed the other pillow, then he tucked it under his knees – the floor was kind of hard for his old bones, so a pillow was very welcome.

''Will it hurt?'' Sherlock asked.

''Not if you're relaxed,'' John replied while he was slicking his forefinger with the lubricant.

''How can I be relaxed in a moment like this?''

''Don't be nervous, Sherlock. It won't hurt and it won't kill you.''

''If you hurt me, I swear I will unscrew your head and throw it at the neighbor's mutt.''

John grinned and he chuckled quietly. Wow. He had never seen Sherlock so nervous before. He sighed and he reached to spread Sherlock's buttocks slightly, being careful not to go too fast. Sherlock blushed deeply and he stopped breathing unconsciously as John's hands touched him. Well. This was very unusual. The taller man remained silent while John examined his perineum and external areas, and John was glad to see that everything seemed normal.

''Done?'' Sherlock asked nervously.

John glanced at the back Sherlock's head and he raised his eyebrow slightly.

''I didn't even start, Sherlock.''

Sherlock sighed and he closed his eyes, trying to relax as much as he could. After a couple of seconds, he felt a cold finger pressing at his entrance and he startled, his eyes snapping open automatically. Okay. Now John definitely started. Sherlock swallowed thickly and he shut his eyes tightly as John pressed his finger all the way in delicately. It didn't hurt, but it was very, very unpleasant. After a couple of seconds, John started to palpate Sherlock's insides carefully.

''How do you feel?'' John asked after a moment.

''Humiliated.''

John clucked his tongue and he rolled his eyes with a sigh.

''Every man has to do it at least one time in his life. And unfortunately you will have to do it once a year when you'll be older than 50 years old.''

Sherlock cracked his eyes open and he winced slightly as John kept moving his finger.

''How long will it last?'' he asked.

''Not more than a minute. It won't be long.''

''It's already too long for my taASTEHOLYFUCK – ''

''Found it,'' John said with a proud grin.

Sherlock opened his eyes wide and he tightened his grasp on the pillow.

''What have you done?'' Sherlock asked, sounding nervous and confused.

''It happens sometimes when someone or something touches a man's prostate. It's perfectly normal, don't worry about that.''

John kept palpating for a second or two, but then he stopped and his eyes widened.

''Wait a sec – did it hurt? It wasn't supposed to hurt,'' John asked worriedly.

Sherlock remained silent, his uneven breath escaping his lips as he stared at the wall.

''No, it didn't hurt,'' he responded. ''It… it was like… as if you touched a raw nerve, but the shock was pleasant instead of painful,'' Sherlock said slowly as if he was analyzing his own reaction.

John closed his eyes and he sighed in relief.

''Okay. That's great,'' he breathed.

John kept going as smoothly as he could, not wanting to hurt Sherlock – he didn't have the same luck when he had to be checked last year. The woman was clearly tired of working in a hospital and she hadn't been gentle at all.

''I didn't think you'd be the reactive type,'' John said with a quiet chuckle.

Sherlock frowned slightly. ''What do you mean?'' he asked curiously.

John remained silent and he grinned. ''Most of the men don't react at all when they feel the shock. You did.''

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. ''Don't you dare use this against me.''

''No, no. I won't.''

Sherlock was about to respond, but John brushed against his prostate and a groan escaped his throat without his permission. He shut his eyes and he parted his lips slightly, feeling a wild shiver running down his spine.

''Are you doing this on purpose?'' Sherlock asked, breathing a little bit more heavily.

''I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just doing my job,'' John said innocently.

John pressed harder against the sweet bundle of nerves and Sherlock moaned loudly, his body trembling as the jolt of pleasure ran through his body. The detective turned his head to bury his face into the pillow in attempt to muffle his noises, feeling a deep blush creep to his cheeks and down his neck.

John wouldn't admit it, but it was funny to see Sherlock like this. Not that he wanted to take advantage of it, of course not… he was just doing his job. But it was different from the cold and frigid Sherlock.

After approximately fifty seconds, Sherlock began to feel weird. Weird in a positive way, but still weird. He looked down and his eyes widened when he saw that he was growing hard. Holy sweet mother of god and pissing shitballs. It wasn't supposed to happen at all.

''John, stop that now,'' he said sternly but breathlessly.

John frowned slightly in confusion. ''What's wrong?'' he asked curiously.

''Just… just stop. Stop now,'' Sherlock repeated.

John did what he was told and he remained still. ''Okay, I'm done now anyway,'' he said as he slowly dragged his finger out of Sherlock. The younger man winced when his muscles clenched around nothing and he sighed, letting his head sink into the pillow as he regained his breath.

''No abnormalities in your insides. You can sleep in peace,'' John said as he removed the gloves. ''It must be a urinary infection. I'll give you a prescription tomorrow,'' he added with a playful slap on Sherlock's butt cheek.

Sherlock's eyes widened and he jumped slightly at the slap. He remained still for a while, listening to John leaving the room and go upstairs, and he finally let himself relax. He stayed silent for a couple of seconds, turning on his back to be more comfortable, and as he reached down to scratch his belly, his fingers brushed against his cockhead lightly. He bit his bottom lip and he looked down, staring at his own erection for a moment before he let the tip of his fingers brush along the underside of his length, a soft moan escaping his throat. He swallowed thickly and he licked his lips, closing his eyes slowly, his free hand moving to grasp the bed sheets. His fingers touched something cold and he opened his eyes to look at the object, his cheeks reddening when he saw the bottle of lubricant still open on the bed.

_John._


End file.
